


We Were Meant To Be Sparks of Light

by Nevanna



Category: Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Book: Emperor Mage, M/M, Missing Scene, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-30 18:46:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15102737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nevanna/pseuds/Nevanna
Summary: On Numair's first night back in Carthak, Ozorne proposes a more intimate reunion.





	We Were Meant To Be Sparks of Light

**Author's Note:**

> The first time I read _The Immortals_ , I was too young and clueless to interpret Numair and Ozorne as Disaster Exes. I have since made up for lost time.
> 
> The title of this ficlet is from the song "Outlaws" by Delta Rae.

“Good evening, Arram.”

Numair inclines his head. “Your Imperial Majesty.”

Ozorne is leaning against the door to the guest quarters. “Must you be so formal, old friend?”

“Your order for my arrest was decisively formal, as I recall.”

“As was my official pardon,” Ozorne reminds him. “I’m honored – and gratified – that you returned to Carthak of your own free will.”

“I think it’s fairer to say that my return was the will of King Jonathan,” Numair says.

Ozorne makes a dismissive gesture with one hand. If he’d moved his fingers in a different order and focused his energy on the nearest stair rail, he could have reduced it to ash. “There will be plenty of time to discuss politics over the next few days. I thought that we might take this moment to chat about old times.” His other hand lands lightly upon Numair’s arm. “Unless you’d prefer not to talk at all.”

Numair shakes off the hand. “I’m afraid not.”

“If you wish, I could summon Varice to join us. She’s missed you more than she’ll admit.” Ozorne smiles. “And it’s not as if she would refuse a royal command.”

Power gathers at Numair’s fingertips and behind his eyes. He reminds himself that magically assaulting the Emperor Mage, or shoving him away from the door, would improve neither his temper nor diplomatic relations between their countries. “So much for free will,” he says tightly. “Did you think that such a proposal would win my favor?”

Ozorne’s smile widens, recalling the delight on his face when Numair used to call upon his Gift during their private encounters, and the sparks of emerald fire that danced over his own hands in response. Just as quickly, the remnant of the passionate young man that Ozorne once was, gives way again to the merciless ruler that he has become. “I think that you should be very careful not to fall too far from mine.” His face and form shimmer and fade, leaving behind the whispered words, “Pleasant dreams.”


End file.
